


Game

by Writing-The-Ghostbusters (writingfanfic)



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Ghostbusters
Summary: For the prompt: 'I was wondering if I could get a Venkman x reader (f) thing (SFW I guess) where the reader goes to their firehouse after seeing a ghost and Venkman's the only one there at the time so he just teases+ flirts with her the whole time but ends up catching the ghost for her.'Sure can! Flirty boy.





	Game

You step into the firehouse, swallowing nervously. You never thought you’d be here – after all, you’d laughed at first, when those cheesy adverts had come on, but then… things had started happening, and after last night, you wanted some assurance.

And this was the place… allegedly.

A woman is sitting at the desk behind… you glance around. Lord, this place is cluttered – there are orange cones, random wires, and then your eyes alight on the glass tank.

The green, floating, gelatinous blob inside gibbers at you, and your jaw drops.

“Oh, hi.” The woman is looking at you, but you are still staring at the… the creature. “That’s just Slimer, if you don’t have anything edible on you, you’re gonna be fine. My name’s Janine, please, take a seat.” She’s filing her nails, you notice, but her smile is sweet, and you sit down, still taking the occasional glance back at the- thing.

“Is that a-” you begin, and there is a clatter behind Janine. She rolls her eyes.

“Yes-”

“ _Is that a customer, Janine?_ ” comes a voice, and, as if he had slept through his shift, a man – balding brown hair, blue plaid shirt – nearly vaults the little divider between the office at the back and smiles at you. “Hello, Miss.”

“Dr. Venkman, I haven’t finished processing the client,” Janine said, voice not so much pointed as barbed, and he smiles at her.

“Aren’t you glad it’s time for your break? Shoo, go and get a burrito or something, will you,” he says, and she stands up.

“I understand this break will be paid?”

“Sure it will, just put it on my desk and  _go_ , c’mon…”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Janine says, flatly, to you, and marches off – Dr. Venkman falls into her seat and smiles at you. You are regretting your decision a little.

“So, ma’am… welcome to our humble home. Can I get you a drink? In fact, it’s a little messy in here, would you like to go somewhere else and get something to eat and discuss your problem-?”

“Uh… no, thank you, Dr. Venkman,” you say, tactfully, and he nods slowly.

“Tell me what your problem is.” He smiles at you, and despite the fact he’s obviously hitting on you, you can’t help but smile back at him. He has a very infectious smile. “I will do  _anything_  I can to help.” He pats your hand, and holds it just a little too long, and you sigh.

“Well… about a week ago, I started hearing sounds in my apartment-”

“Just before we get into this – has your fridge done anything weird in the past 24 hours?” he asks, warily, and your brow furrows as you shake your head. “That’s positive! You wouldn’t believe how much a problem that is.”

“Well, I started hearing sounds, and then things starting moving. That was… I just thought I was being scatter-brained. I live alone, see…” His eyes light up, and you kick yourself. “And then… last night…”

“It’s okay. If it’s difficult, take your time.” You realise he is still holding your hand. “May I say, by the way, you do not look like a woman who hasn’t had any sleep. Your face is very youthful. Do you moisturise?”

“…Dr. Venkman-”

“Peter. Call me Peter. Women with eyes as bright as yours are welcome to.” You can’t help but smile again.  _Stop it, (Y/N)!_  You can’t fall for patter this ridiculously obvious. You must be strong – he’s got very blue eyes. Ahem.

“Well… Peter. I woke up last night and there was… there was a woman standing in my room. She pointed at a corner of the room and left. Just vanished.” He nods. “It scared me so much I slept in my neighbour’s flat…”

“So… just to make it clear – no boyfriend?” he asks, and you stop.

“Dr. Venkman, do you have something to say?”

“No, no.” You relax. “I’m just saying-” You sigh, but your mouth can’t help but turn up at the corners. “I mean… a woman like you shouldn’t have to sleep in fear at night. You should have someone there. To protect you.”

“A woman like me, Dr. Venkman?” you say, and he nods. “What’s my name?”

“…enchanting. Beautiful. Hypnotic. I love the way you pronounce it. Say it again…?”

“I haven’t said it yet. It’s (Y/N), and can you help me or not?”

“(Y/N). I’m pretty sure that according to numerology, (Y/N) and Peter combine to make a divine number. We’re big on numerology here. Very connected to ghosts.” You close your eyes. “Anyway, I think it’s best if I come back to your place.” Your eyes fly open.

“…Dr. Venkman…” you begin, and he shakes his head.

“In a purely professional capacity. I mean… there’s nothing like being there. On site. You know what I mean.” You roll your eyes, and he smiles at you again. “So… ma’am… please. Escort me to your palace.”

* * *

You open your door, and he pushes past you, weird… whirly-buzzy thing in front of him. You think he said it was an EMF detector – you watch as he aims it at random corners of your apartment, and his brow furrows.

“I’m not really picking anything up, but last time I said that, someone turned into a dog and we turned everyone off marshmallows forever.” You look at him sideways, but he steps forward. “Can you show me the way to your bedroom?” He winks at you, and you find yourself smiling again. There’s something about the way he does it – it’s clearly game, but it’s too audacious to put you off. “I mean… if that isn’t too forward. I did offer to buy you a drink.”

“Peter- Dr. Venkman, the bedroom is this way, and I intend to remain fully clothed in it.”

“Of  _course_. What on earth were you thinking?” You giggle, and he smiles. “Got you to smile. That’s extra on your fee, of course. Smile Tax.” You guide him to the door, and as you push it open, you half-expect to see the woman there again. “Can you describe her? The woman?”

“Uh… tall. Dark hair, but it looked… wet. She was… weirdly tall. Like… distorted. And she had her mouth open.” You shiver. It was a real, horror-movie ghost, and you cried – but you don’t want to admit that to Peter.  _Dr. Venkman_. No. No falling for the sales patter. Venkman nods, and then beams at the device starts to beep at him.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” He kneels down, and you see a puddle of… something disgusting looking on the carpet. “Oh. My favourite.  _Ectoplasm_.” He looks up at you. “If I get slimed during the course of this job, it will reflect in my fee.”

“Slimed?” you ask, and he stands up – he’s staring at the floor, and you see a trail that you clearly missed on your way in. “What is that?”

“This is what happens when a ghost touches something solid. They never wash their hands…” He stops, and kicks the piece of furniture where the slime ends – it’s a travel chest you bought… come to think of it, about a week prior. “What’s this?”

“I… bought it at a flea market. It’s just a travel chest, I haven’t got anything in it yet.” He nods, and points the device at it again. It starts screaming, and you swallow.

“Okay. I am going to take that, and Egon is going to… figure out exactly what the deal is there.” He sighs, and turns to you. “I can’t carry that back and the guys have the Ecto – so…”

“…do I want to go for something to eat?” you finish, and he shrugs.

“A business meal. That means I can comp it on expenses.” You close your eyes, and he sighs. “Honestly, I think you’re reading too much into this. I mean, you came into  _my_  office…” He’s smiling as he says it, and you smile too. “Okay. So… let’s go and get a bite to eat. My treat.” He puts his arm around you, and you sigh.

“Peter, you are incorrigible.”

“Thank you!”


End file.
